Mohist Mechanism

As I remember, the fortune teller told me when i was young, "When you turn thirty, there will be a hurdle."

I asked, "Can I overcome it?"

The fortune teller stroked his beard, shook his head, and said, "Difficult."

Mile whispered in my ear, "Give some money to the master to break the barrier."

I glared at the fortune teller, muttered under my breath, "Charlatan!"

Mile just laughed.

As I turned to leave, the fortune teller, noticing the missing index finger on my left hand, suddenly stood up and solemnly said, "Young man, it's okay if you don't believe, but when you turn thirty, never go back to your hometown."

I coldly snorted at the fortune teller, ignoring him.

That year, I was twenty-five, at the foot of Mount Tai, just graduated, with a bright future ahead. I didn't take the fortune teller's words to heart, and at that time, I had no plans to return to my hometown. I wanted to avoid going back forever and never see the old man who cost me my finger. However, who would have thought that five years later, his words would come true.

My name is Shen Tuo, thirty years old this year. After graduation, I and Mile, my college classmate (real name Zhang Heng), worked together in Beijing. Mile was a good-looking guy, carefree, with a round face and always a cute smile. We gave him the nickname "Mile" in college. We changed jobs several times after graduation, worked as copywriters, delivered food, lived in basements when we were poor, opened a shop when we were doing well, but our lives remained unstable.

The turning point came the day after my birthday. The previous night, we got heavily drunk at a bar near Houhai. The next morning, I received a call from my father. His voice was urgent as he told me that my grandfather was critically ill. He had been calling me all night, but there was no answer. I kept apologizing, and my father finally said, "Regardless, you must come back today."

After hanging up, I quickly packed my things. Mile, who heard the reason, said, "Didn't the fortune teller say you can't go back when you're thirty?"

His words reminded me, but this time, I had no choice but to return. I could imagine how my grandfather would deal with me if I didn't rush back. I thought for a moment and said, "I can't care about that now. Whether it's a blessing or a curse, I can't avoid it."

Mile seemed to understand and scratched his head, saying, "How about I accompany you back?"

"Really?" I looked at him in surprise. He had just bought a secondhand car recently, and driving back would not only be faster but also save face.

Mile, seemingly regretful, hesitated for a while, scratching his head, before saying, "Alright, I really want to see the legendary place you talked about!"

"Good, hurry up, let's pack and leave immediately!" I urged, fearing Mile might change his mind.

Fifteen minutes later, we were on the road back to my hometown. It was already late afternoon. As we entered the village, a somber atmosphere enveloped us. My grandfather's coffin was temporarily placed under a makeshift canopy in the eastern part of the yard. My father's expression improved slightly upon seeing me. He softly said, "You're back?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

My father gestured toward my grandfather's coffin and said, "Go pay your respects."

I nodded again, walked to the coffin, kowtowed three times, then turned around and coincidentally bumped into my father. He looked at me and said, "Not going to see your grandfather one last time?"

I stood in front of my father, turned my head slightly to glance at the coffin, and shook my head hastily.

"You still can't forgive him, huh?" My father stared at me.

I lowered my head slightly. In reality, my relationship with my parents had always been plain. It was mainly because of the fifteen years they left me with my grandfather, creating a great deal of resentment. My father sighed and patted my shoulder, shaking his head. "Go check on the family."

My grandfather's funeral was scheduled for two days later. Relatives from out of town arrived gradually in these two days. This was my first return home in a few years, and it was the most complete family gathering. After some brief exchanges with them, I roamed around the old house with Mile, but it felt like something was missing.

"Is that Dragon Bone Ridge over there?" Mile pointed to a densely wooded valley in the south.

"Yeah, follow the valley, and you'll reach Dragon Bone Ridge!" I glanced at Mile and said with a smile, "Your nose is quite sensitive!"

"Don't say that, just by looking at it, I can feel how eerie it is inside!" Mile looked at the mist hovering above Dragon Bone Ridge and said, "I'm starting to believe that legend!"

"I told you long ago; that legend is absolutely true!" I patted Mile's shoulder.

"Then I'm a bit confused. Why did those bandits travel over a thousand miles to Dragon Bone Ridge?" Mile furrowed his brow and asked.

"Maybe they came to find a treasure!" I thought for a moment and said, "According to the old man, the besieged Ming army in Dragon Bone Ridge wasn't an ordinary force; it was a unit specialized in escorting military funds. They were originally escorting funds to Guanning, but just as they reached halfway, Guanning fell into the hands of the Qing army. The Qing army ransacked the place, and with someone betraying them, the Ming army had no choice but to retreat into Dragon Bone Ridge. The Qing army besieged them for over two months. Although they eventually killed the Ming army, they couldn't find the whereabouts of the military funds. The Qing army tortured the surviving Ming soldiers severely, resorting to skinning and dismemberment, but still, they failed to locate the funds."

"That makes sense. So, you mean those military funds might still be in Dragon Bone Ridge?" Mile asked with a gleam in his eyes.